


Saturday Games

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: Basketball, Central Park, Friendship, Gen, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2010-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter invites Neal to come play basketball in the park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Games

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Lefaym.

Neal was still in his pajamas and robe when Peter dropped by unexpectedly on the Saturday morning.

"Coffee?" Neal asked, looking over Peter's baggy mesh gym shorts, held up with elastic and a drawstring, and a ratty tee shirt with a ripped collar seam. He must have sneaked out, because Neal couldn't believe that Elizabeth would have let him out of the house dressed like that.

"No time," Peter replied. "Get dressed, we're going to the park."

Neal stared at him. "Are we panhandling? I don't think I'll pass."

"No! We're going to find a basketball game."

"I don't play basketball."

Peter waved him off. "Come on. You have to exercise. No one just wakes up in the morning, looking like that."

Neal shrugged and held out his arms with a smile.

Peter looked around. "Seriously? There's no one around to impress. Just me."

"Fine." Neal rolled his eyes. "I run. I do pilates. Free weights. But I avoid anything with a ball."

"Why?"

"Because I have too many middle school memories of dodgeballs being flung at my head."

To his credit, Peter didn't laugh. Though he looked like he really wanted to.

"Why do you want me to come with you anyway? I thought you looked forward to the weekends so you didn't have to spend any extra time with me." Neal knew that wasn't true at all, but maybe he could annoy Peter enough that he'd leave.

Peter made a face. "That's not true. I just thought you could stand to get out of the house. Go somewhere new. With me, you can go out of your radius. You're not confined to the same two miles."

"But I'll be confined to the park. To wherever you are."

"You don't want a change of scenery?"

"We're going to the park. I can go to Riverside Park. I can go to most of Central Park. It's not like you're taking me someplace I can't already go."

Peter threw up his hands. "Fine. I thought it might be fun. I don't even know why I try."

Neal cocked his head to the side. "You really want me to come with you?"

"I wouldn't have come here if I didn't."

"Fine. Let me get dressed. But I won't play. I'll watch."

Peter grinned. "Great. I'll wait for you in the car."

Neal wasn't sure why Peter was so insistent, but he didn't have plans for the morning. It wouldn't kill him.

On the short drive to Central Park, Neal looked over to Peter. "When you say 'find' a game, do you mean that you don't have plans with anyone?"

"You can always find a game on a Saturday," Peter replied with a shrug.

"With who? Fourteen year olds?"

"Sure. Or some Columbia students, or police officers, or a gang--"

"You'd play basketball with a gang?"

Peter shrugged again. "I can't do anything about them, unless they do something illegal in front of me, and they know it. A lot of the time, they're good kids who get mixed up in bad crap."

After they parked, they walked to the basketball courts. It was in Neal's radius, but it was an area of the park he didn't go to, so it was, admittedly, a change of scenery. Neal settled himself on a bench and watched as Peter struck up a conversation with a group of twenty-something guys who looked like businessmen in gym clothes.

It was like some kind of weird jock ritual. They instantly recognized Peter as one of their own and invited him to join the game. Peter motioned back at Neal for a moment, and one of the guys eyed Neal warily. Neal made eye contact and coolly stared him down. He didn't want to join in on the stupid game anyway.

He didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the game, at first. He was in a great location for people watching, and it made him wish he'd brought his sketchbook. He smiled and tipped his hat to passing female joggers, and sized up dog walkers, figuring out who he could distract with a discussion about a Pekingese long enough to lift their wallet. Even as he stayed stationary, it was a fun game, though it was more fun when he and Kate had played it together. Especially since they usually walked away with a few bucks.

"Hey, what do you think?"

Neal looked up to Peter who was leaning against the chain link fence, his palms outstretched, fingers in the holes.

"Oh, I wasn't really watching," Neal said. He nodded as another jogger passed, and grinned.

Peter rolled his eyes. "I know this is beneath you--"

"I didn't say that."

"--but maybe you could try broadening your horizons."

Neal laughed. "And here I thought you considered my horizons broad enough."

"This is basketball, Neal. Not a jewelry store heist."

Neal narrowed his eyes and asked, "Why'd you ask me here today?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I thought it might be fun. If you're bored, you can go. You don't have to stay."

"I think your buddies there," Neal pointed to the guys on the court, "are ready to keep playing."

"Oh." Peter waved to the guys, then turned back to Neal. "I'll see you on Monday, then." He let go of the fence and headed back onto the court.

Neal sat there, feeling himself be contrary. He had permission to go, Peter was expecting him to go, and suddenly he wanted to stay. It was ridiculous, when he thought about it, how often this was his reaction. His gaze traveled beyond the fence and found himself watching Peter.

By all rights, Peter should be making a fool of himself. Here he was, forty-five, playing team sports against guys half his age, and yet, he was keeping up. From what Neal could see, he was actually doing better than some of them, but Neal's knowledge of basketball ended at putting the ball through the hoop. Neal was mildly impressed; Peter was fit, but it was just always hidden beneath his off the rack suits.

He couldn't deny that Peter was trying to be his friend. Not just someone he enjoyed working with, maybe go out for a beer sometime, but an actual friend. Someone to do stuff with on the weekends, and hang out, invite to neighborhood barbecues. While nothing about their working relationship, or otherwise, indicated that this was a good idea at _all_, Neal felt oddly touched.

They stopped for a moment, and Peter leaned over, propping himself up with his hands on his knees. He looked up, and saw Neal still sitting here. He grinned, and laughed, shaking his head. As he stood up straight, he pulled up the front of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

Neal sat back, and sometimes he looked up at the game, but mostly he went back to people watching. A redhead with a dalmatian sat on the bench with him, and they flirted back and forth while he petted the dog.

She walked away, after slipping Neal her number, and Neal looked up to see Peter, hands on his hips, waiting.

"You done?" Peter asked.

"I'm done if you're done," Neal replied. He stood and flipped his hat back on his head. "Let's go."

"I see you found a way to entertain yourself," Peter said, as they walked back to the car.

"She was nice." Neal paused. "Look, Peter, I get why you invited me."

"You do?"

"You want to be friends."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "We aren't friends?"

Neal looked at him. "You know what I mean."

"I guess so."

"This how you do male bonding. Basketball, team sports, I get it. It's just not my thing, but I appreciate you trying."

Peter nodded. "We should probably stick to mortgage fraud from now on."

Neal laughed. "Yeah."

"You want to come over for lunch? I'm starving. There's leftover meatloaf -- meatloaf sandwiches. If you're interested." Peter shrugged.

"Sounds great," Neal replied. They reached the car, Peter shucked off his shirt and tossed it in the back seat. Neal cringed inwardly at idea of driving without a shirt on, but it was Peter, so he kept his mouth closed as they climbed into the car. "You are going to shower, right?"

Peter looked over at him, unamused. "Yes."

"Good." Neal reached forward and fiddled with the air conditioner as Peter pulled out into traffic. "You know, there's other stuff we could do. Have you ever been rock climbing?"

"In the city?"

"Yeah, like rock climbing walls. They're all over the place. There's one downtown I used to go to -- assuming it's still there, I haven't been since I got out. It's fun, and there are no balls involved. I think you'd enjoy it. We'd both enjoy it."

Peter kept his eyes on the road, but he smiled. "Next Saturday?"

Neal grinned. "It's a date."


End file.
